Page 119 of Twisted Secret
I feel like my legs will barely support me as I go to him, but as I sink down into a chair that Romeo moves over for me and takes his hand, I realize his fingers are warm. They’re not clammy or cold any longer, and that feels like a good sign.
"He'll sleep for several hours," the doctor says from somewhere behind me. "The anesthesia will take time to wear off, and his body needs the rest to begin healing. You should try to get some sleep yourself."
"I'm staying here." I don't look away from Luca's face as I say it. "I'm not leaving him."
There's a pause, and then Romeo says, "I'll have someone bring you clean clothes. And food. You need to eat something."
I nod, even though the thought of food makes my stomach turn. But he's right—I need to take care of myself and maintain my strength for the baby if nothing else. And Luca would want that. He’d insist on it if he were conscious. He took care of me, even when he was furious with me.
The thought makes me want to cry all over again.
The room empties, until it’s just me, Luca, and the tray of food that Romeo had someone bring to me. I got up just long enough to clean up and change in the adjoining bathroom, and now I nibble at the food as best as I can while I sit next to Luca.
Mostly, I just hold his hand. I stare at it, remembering how it felt when he touched me, how astonished I was at the contradiction of a man who could use these hands for blood and violence and also bring me so much pleasure. That contradiction—the violence and his closeness with Romeo, the devotion and the bloodshed—was part of what always drew me to him. These hands have hurt people, have killed for my family, have touched me with passion and anger… and maybe one day, if we get another chance, they could touch me with love.
But he has to survive this first.
"You came for me," I whisper into the quiet room, my thumb tracing circles on the back of his hand. "You walked into that warehouse knowing you might die, and you came anyway. You put yourself between me and a bullet."
I wait as if he might respond, but he stays silent. I'm left alone with my thoughts and the weight of what happened tonight.
He could have died. The realization hits me fresh, stealing my breath all over again. That bullet could have torn through something vital that couldn’t be repaired quickly enough. Alessandro could have aimed for his head instead of his chest. Any one of a dozen variables could have changed, and Luca would be dead right now instead of sleeping peacefully in this bed.
Tears roll down my cheeks, and I don’t bother trying to stop them. There's no one here to see or judge the breakdown I'm having while I wait for a man who might still not want me to wake up and see that I haven’t left him.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper, even though he can't hear me, even though we've been over this ground so many times it should be worn smooth by now. "I'm sorry for the lies and the deception and every choice I made that hurt you. I was desperate and scared, and so in love with you I couldn't think straight. But that's not an excuse. It's just… the truth."
The monitor beeps steadily, and the room is silent. I don’t move. I can’t. I can’t get up or leave until I see something that makes me feel sure he won’t die while I’m gone. "I'm here," I whisper. "I'm right here, Luca. And I'm not going anywhere."
His fingers twitch in mine, and I hold my breath, waiting for whatever comes next with a hope I didn't know I still possessed. Maybe we aren't doomed after all. Maybe the man who risked everything to save me, who took a bullet meant for me—maybethat man can find a way to forgive the girl who lied to him out of desperation and fear.
Maybe we can build something from these broken pieces. Maybe.
I cling to it like a lifeline, as I wait for him to wake up and tell me whether that maybe can become a certainty.
31
LUCA
Ifeel like I come back to consciousness in fragments.
I hear the beeping of monitors, and I smell a hospital scent in the air. There’s a dull throb in my side that tells me I'm alive despite everything that should have killed me. But before I open my eyes and fully surface from the fog of anesthesia and pain medication, I become aware of something else: the warmth of a hand wrapped around mine, small fingers threaded through my larger ones.
I force my eyes open slowly, blinking against the soft light, and the first thing I see is Giulia.
She's asleep in the chair beside my bed, her body curved toward me in a way that looks uncomfortable. Her face is turned slightly toward our joined hands where it’s pillowed on the bed next to me, and even in sleep I can see the exhaustion etched into her features. There are dark circles beneath her eyes, and she looks pale, her face sticky with tears as if she’s been crying off and on all night.
I see her other hand resting on her stomach, and the gesture makes a sudden burn of emotion wash over me.
Our child must be alright. The baby that was created in deception and longing, that I tried to ignore at first, and then couldn’t any longer. I didn’t want a child, and now…
Now all I can think is that I want them both, and I wish I’d said so sooner.
I could have lost them both last night. The thought is a physical pain worse than the wound in my side, worse than any injury I've ever sustained in years of violence and bloodshed. If Alessandro's aim had been better, if I'd been a second slower, they would both be gone. Giulia would be dead, and our child would never have had a chance to exist. I would have spent whatever remained of my life knowing I'd failed to protect the only things that have ever truly mattered to me.
The realization settles over me like a weight I'll carry forever: I've been an absolute fucking idiot.
I've wasted weeks punishing her. Yes, she lied to me, she deceived me, manipulated the situation, took away my ability to make a choice about who I was sleeping with and falling in love with. The betrayal I felt when I discovered the truth was real and justified, and I can’t argue that. It cut deeper than anything I'd experienced before.
